I've been to a forest where the birds are always singing, and the echo in the forest, it too is always ringing, with the silence of the trees, and the rustle of the leaves, It's where I go to pray, on my knees, it's where I praise the creator of all I see; He gives me strength; He changes me.


Where rain falls in drops of silk,
where engulfing fog is white as milk,

where the notes from my flute,
are carried wide and far,
where moonless nights are black as tar, 

I see the night sky painted in spots of white, and the moon shining bright,

where I can hear the lonely owl, 
or the ghostly wolf howl,

where the sight of fireflies rids your heart of lies, and inspires perfect, poetic lines...

It's a little piece of paradise, where I go to clean my eyes.